The Eagle and The Crow
by VarelliaNoel
Summary: Whilst out taking care of her daily business, Afya meets a stranger with a kind heart. He wears many weapons and has a callous attitude, but can she look past the strange man's rough exterior and see him for who he really is?  Rating may change later
1. Prologue

Prologue

There were eagles everywhere. They swarmed high above in the clear blue sky, gliding seamlessly through the thin air. They gave me hope, without reason. I lay on my back, in a grassy field, and watched the slow, lazy movements of the beautiful winged creatures.

There was a crunching of dry grass and rock somewhere to my left, and I tilted my head to see what, or _who_, was coming. For a moment, the sun shone brightly into my eyes, and I was blind. And then, appearing as if from within the bright light, I saw a figure. His hood was made of sorrow, and his eyes filled with grief. The red sash wrapping his waist flowed with the blood of many. Death hung in the air around him, creating a dark aura. I felt a growing sense of fear as the man strode closer.

Suddenly, the figure changed shape. The man became an eagle, with proud, intelligent eyes. But the strange aura still swam about in the air around it. The eagle spread its wings, and leaped into the air with a shrill cry.

I woke.

A/N: So, instead of updating my other story, here I am, starting a new one. Go me. Whoo. So yeah. Hope to become better with detail, so this is my DPS (Detail Practice Story). Hope you all like it. PLEASE PROVIDE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. IT , and by the way, I don't own Assassin's Creed. Period. I own my few characters (not by law, though) and the plot thing. It'll show up somewhere in here... Eventually...


	2. A Kind Stranger

The Eagle and the Crow

Chapter 1

A Kind Stranger

I rose at dawn, watching as the sun rose over the vast city of Acre. I saw its rosy rays, but the warmth did not reach my skin. I heard the soft groans of my younger sister as she slowly came forth from her deep sleep. My brother coughed lightly as dust from the house stirred in a light draft.

For two as young as they, the life they were born into was not an easy one. Far from it. It was filled with hardships that no one should ever have to endure. It was the life of the poor. Meals were excruciatingly small and far between. Winters were frigid and harsh, with no adequate clothing to keep warm with. I did my best to raise them, but times were getting desperate.

I tip toed as quietly as I could to where my siblings were sleeping on their pallet. Their faces were peaceful as they dreamed of better things. How I wished that I could give them something better. Something to really live for, instead of just existing.

I watched my sister's eyes flutter open, her brown eyes hazy and dull. My heart wrenched. It had been three days since her last meal. I couldn't even remember the last time I had eaten. But the children came first, always. They needed the food more than I did.

"I'm going out," I whispered. She nodded slightly.

"When will you be home again, Afya?"

"Late," I said quietly. "But I will return. Take care of Asif."

She nodded. Since our parents left us, Anjum worried that I would leave her. But the children were my life, and I couldn't imagine leaving them for any reason. They were all I had left of a life long gone. A life that they had never known. A life full of love and happiness. But that life was far away, and we were left in the shell of what had been.

I made my way out into the streets of the city, which was rising with the sun. Merchants made their way to their stalls, and early shoppers were trying to get the best bargains of the day. I made my way to Acre's souk, hoping to find more citizens. And it did not disappoint.

Despite the early hour, the souk was crawling with a mass of writhing bodies. I stood off to the side, by one of the dusty walls. I scanned the crowd for the perfect person. Someone who looked sympathetic , yet wealthy. Finding the right person, I struck.

"Please! Spare a few coins, sir," I wailed. I stood in the man's way, impeding movement so that he had to pay attention to me. "I'm poor and hungry, and I have siblings to feed! Could you spare a few coins? Please!"

The man gave a disapproving look, but bulled a pouch from his waist and spilled a few copper coins into my waiting hands.

"Thank you, sir! You are saving lives." The man walked away quickly, hoping that I wouldn't ask for more. But I never did. I took what was given, and was thankful. Those few copper coins meant another meal to fill the children's bellies.

Some days I made a good profit from begging. Others, I made nothing. The children went hungry, and I felt as if I had failed them. I set out each morning, telling myself that today would be a good day; that I would make enough money to feed the children for a few days. But it never happened. I never got more money than that which would pay for one meal for each of them.

I resumed my place at the wall, and searched the crowd again. I saw a woman leading her three small children towards a stall that sold various useful items. The youngest child, looking to be about three, glanced my way, and I smiled. The girl hid in the folds of her mother's skirts, grinning shyly.

I began searching the crowd again, and saw a woman-obviously a noble of high birth- weaving her way through the crowd, nose upturned. She wore a beautiful dress of the deepest purple, and a veil covered the lower half of her face. I decided not to prey on her. She looked like one to call the guards.

As I resumed searching, I saw a flash of white in the thick of the crowd. It grabbed and held my interest, so that I was waiting for the moment it reappeared. As soon as I thought it was gone, it was there again. But it was not just a flash of white.

It was a man, dressed in pure white robes, with a red sash around his waist. The man looked familiar, but I could not remember where I had seen him before. He wore a hood that left all but his mouth in shadow. But I knew him…. I _felt _that I had seen him before, somewhere bright and warm.

He looked sympathetic enough, and I wanted to get a better look at him, so I launched towards him, pushing my way through the crowd. About halfway to him, I had second thoughts. The man had weapons strapped all over his body. Swords, an assortment of knives, and armor that shone silver in the rising sun. But I was already halfway there, and I needed the money bad enough to risk my life for it.

"Sir, please," I said, stopping him. In an instant, his eyes were on me, searching my face. They were bright and intelligent, and a brilliant tawny color that seemed almost like molten gold. It was unnerving, like he was looking into my soul.

"Can I help you?" he said politely. Hearing him speak brought me back to my senses somewhat.

"Umm… C-could you spare a few coins? I have children to f-f-feed," I stammered. With one look, this strange man took my confidence away, as well as my ability to think clearly.

Without a word, the man pulled out a pouch and held it out to me. I reached out slowly and grabbed it, unsure if he wanted me to take the whole purse. It was heavy. I stared down at it in my hands, the weight unfamiliar, yet comforting. When I looked up again, the man was gone.

I walked back to my spot against the wall, leaning back against it. I help the pouch tightly in my hands, almost afraid to open it. But my curiosity overcame me. I opened the purse and poured its contents into the palm of my right hand. Twelve gold coins and seven silver coins fell into my hands, glinting brightly in the growing light.

My breath came in a gasp, and my head reeled. This could feed us every night for three months if rationed correctly. We could get new clothes, and blankets…. I looked up, searching for the stranger amidst the crush of people in the souk. I saw nothing of him, no sign that he had been there at all.

I poured the money back in the bag and clutched it tightly to my chest. I hurried home in a rush, tears blinding me as I went. For the first time in years, I cried.

A/N: So I was sort of surprised at how many reviews this has gotten so far. I updated so that people could get a better feel for what the hell is going on with this thing, but since this is a side story, it probably wont be updated very often. I'm *hopefully* gonna work harder on Against the Creed and work on this when I don't feel like writing other things anymore. So yeah. Updates will probably be sporadic, and comments containing constructive criticism are greatly- get it, GREATLY- appreciated. Thanks to all of you who did review the prologue, and I hope you enjoyed this first chapter.


	3. A Hectic Day

I smiled as I watched Anjum and Asif flit from stall to stall. I had decided that they could follow me through Acre's streets while I took care of the daily shopping. I watched as Anjum smiled shyly at a woman she had accidentally bumped into. The woman smiled in return, patted her head, and continued on her way.

I turned my head, searching for Asif, but my attention was caught by a flicker of white among the crowd. I stood there, watching for the white to reappear again, but it never did. Anjum and Asif returned to my side, complaining about sore feet, and I led them home.

I could smell a rainstorm on the breeze, and lifted my head towards the sky, searching the horizon for dark clouds as I walked hand in hand with my siblings. Something else caught my attention. On one of the high towers that provided guards with a wide view of the city below, I caught sight of something waving. My first thought was that it was a flag, but the longer I looked, I recognized it as a man clothing.

The man sat crouched on a beam that jutted out from the tower's side, and an eagle circled above his head. The long tails of his robe fluttered in the wind, which was what initially caught my attention. As I watched, the man stood from his crouched position. I felt a tugging at my skirt, and looked down into Asif's shining green eyes. I smiled at him and turned to look back at the man on the tower, but he had disappeared.

I shook my head, ridding it of the strange image, and continued home. It was only mid afternoon, and after getting the children home, I decided to visit one of the few friends I had made while living in Acre. I exited the house after making sure the children would stay put, and took a left, travelling for a while before taking a sharp right. Continuing for several more paces, I soon saw my destination.

I never reached it. A hand covered my mouth, muffling any sounds I made, and I was quickly dragged backwards into a dimly lit alleyway. My back collided painfully with a wall, causing me to inhale sharply and squeeze my eyes shut against the pain.

My mind was instantly flooded with panicked thoughts, and I fought to stay as calm as possible. My rational mind told me that there was a way out of this if I was willing to try to get away. The less rational part was telling me that I would get raped then killed, or just killed, because I was too weak to fight back. Both were a possibility. But I refused to accept either fate

I pushed against the heavy thing holding me against the wall, but soon my hands were restrained and I was hopeless, yet I struggled against the vice-like grip nonetheless. I opened my eyes to the darkness of the alley, trying to figure out what I could do to get out of this.

I dimly saw the outline of the man- at least, what I _assumed_ was a man- that was holding me against the wall. I could make out no real details, other than the fact that the man was wearing something light grey or white, and that his face was shadowed by a hood.

I knew I was too weak to fight, but there had to be _something _I could do. Suddenly I knew. I stopped my struggling, relaxed, closed my eyes, and kicked out, aiming for the crotch.

I hit exactly what I wanted to. My attacker doubled over, grunting in pain. I seized the opportunity I had and ran out of the alleyway and into the streets again. I was immensely glad that my attacker had been male and that I had not missed.

I hurried out into the slightly crowded streets and spotted a troop of guards, hands on the pommels of their swords, marching through the crowd. I made a beeline for them, glancing behind me as I went. I saw nothing out of the ordinary, but that did nothing to comfort me. I glanced behind one last time, searching fervently for any sign of my attacker.

I was suddenly halted, smacking into something hard. I stepped back a few paces before looking up to apologize to whomever I ran into. Seeing that it was one of the guards I had spotted earlier, my eyes widened.

"Please, sir! Help me," I said, clasping my hands in front of me as if praying. The guard looked down at me, his armor glinting dully in the noonday sunshine. From the look on his face, I could tell he was angry at me for running into him, but his expression changed when my words sunk in.

"What happened?" he asked tersely. I was relieved that I had found one of the rare guards that didn't chop my hand off for bumping into him.

"I was walking in the street back there," I pointed to show him, "and suddenly this man grabbed me and pulled me into an alley. I kicked him and ran away, and now I'm worried that he might come and kill me out of anger."

The guard peered over my shoulder, looking for any signs of someone watching us, before his eyes returned to my face. He stared, as if thinking hard about something that he recognized but could not quite place. Then his eyes widened, and he grabbed my hand.

He started walking, dragging me behind him, while barking orders at the others in the group. _What luck, _I thought, _that I ran into the leader of this troop and not one of the others._ I had a feeling that most of the guards in this group were _not _men to be trifled with.

"My superior," _at least he is paying attention to me, _"would like to talk to you about some events that occurred about a week ago," the man said as he pulled me towards the garrison. The other guards grouped around us in a protective circle, eyes darting back and forth, searching the crowds. For what? I could only guess.

Something hit my face. Gentle and silky soft, I grabbed at the object, capturing it between my fingers. I opened my hand slowly, retaining a slight hold on the item so it would not blow away from me. I glanced at the guard latched onto my hand, wondering if he had seen me reach for the item, before looking down at it.

It was a feather. Brown, with darker brown, thick stripes that ended in a thin line, I recognized it immediately. I saw them all over the city, resting on the ground near the side of the street. It was a feather from an eagle.

I looked up, wondering where it came from. I scanned the sky, but saw no eagles. _There! What was that? _I saw a shape that didn't belong on a rooftop far ahead. It was….a man…. A man in white. He stood on the edge of the roof, face hidden in shadow by the hood, but I could _feel _him staring at me.

We took a sharp right, and I lost sight of him. My hand was beginning to feel slightly numb from the guard's tight grip, but I was too fearful to ask him to loosen it. We would be there soon anyway. I could see the archway that led to the garrison's main building, and inhaled deeply to try to rid my mind of fear. It worked. For a moment.

The guard gripping my hand barked at the other guards to stay put and keep watch outside, then opened the door to the building and ducked inside, dragging me with him. There was a man, obviously important, sitting at a desk in the center of the room. There was one window to the left of him, but the shutters were drawn, and no light entered. The only illumination came from two flickering lamps on either side of the desk.

"Sir, I've brought you the woman," the guard said. The man looked up, and the first thing I noticed was the scar. It curled from above his right eyebrow, extended onto the bridge of his nose, and continued onto his left cheek. Cold, calculating grey eyes stared out from beneath bushy eyebrows and light grey stubble covered the man's chin.

The master of the city guards stood and gazed at me before moving from behind the table to get a better look at me. His face was set in a permanent frown, it seemed, and he limped heavily on his right leg. The fear I thought I had washed away moments before came raging back stronger than before.

The man came to a stop in front of me, looked me up and down, and nodded at the guard. The guard dropped my hand, which I rubbed gently to relieve the pain his fingers had caused, and averted my eyes from the man's face, choosing to stare at the floor. The guard stood by the door, feet spread apart and hands clasped behind his back.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you will answer truthfully," the man spoke in a deep, gravelly voice. "Do we have an agreement?"

I had no choice but to nod my head, meekly accepting. I wondered what this was all about, hoping that this would end up being a misunderstanding or something of the like. I would tell this man the truth, anything he wanted to know, because – rather suddenly- I was frightened for my life.

**A/N: Well. I don't mean to take so long between chapters, but...well... Life happens. So yeah. Sorry for not updating often. And for fans of Against the Creed, I haven't given up on that yet. It just might take me a while to get another chapter out. As for this story... well... Ugh. This is just something to keep me writing, I guess. BTW, if anyone has an idea for an Assassin's Creed II story that you don't need, you could throw it my way. I just recently played through the game (got it for Christmas. Late, I know, but I don't have the money to buy new games), and I fell in love with Ezio. I like how he actually has a story as to why he kills peeps, and I like that. Not that I have anything against Al Mualim's way of doing things (actually I do have quite a big problem, the traitorous bastard), but I like how Ezio grows throughout the game. Altair just goes from sexy douche to sexy douche with feelings. Yay for his development. Anyway, I have NO idea as to why I went into this whole rant about...whatever the heck I was talking about... but it happened. So yeah. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's really short and the "action scene" sucks because I have no idea how to get the image in my mind onto paper without it turning into mush and looking/tasting like babyfood (don't ask me how to taste a story. It's a long, drawn out process that involves banana peels, coffee creamer, a tootsie roll, some play doh, and a wrench. It's also extremely hard to explain). But nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed it. At least a little bit... I dunno. Here I go, ranting again, and half of you probably aren't even reading this, while the ones that are are probably beginning to think that I have mental problems. Which I assure you, I don't... I think...Bye?**


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